Prompt 65: Lightning
by MacFanFictionize
Summary: FanFiction 100 Challenge. Fanfiction concerning Seth MacFarlane.


"Well, we're fucked", he abruptly says as he climbs back into the car. You look at him, a worrisome look upon your face. You notice he's completely drenched. He wipes the water from his face with both of his hands and sits back comfortably. He lets himself lean fully against the leather upholstery, turning his head towards you.

"We're not getting out of here anytime soon, we should-" his voice trails off when your hands has reached up and puts one lost, wet strain of hair on his forehead right back into place with the rest of the tousled and dark hair. While your fingers are moving away from him, your gazes slowly meet. You give him a small smile, cheeks flustering as he stares at you. He smiles back.

"So," you say, propping your elbow against the headrest and you can see him staring you down, "What caused that explosion?"

He absentmindedly let his eyes roam your body, licking his lips before biting down on his lower lip as his eyes slowly go from your head to your waist and back up, ""A… blow…. job". A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Excuse me?", you ask, attempting to suppress the steadily growing grin, the tone of your voice is a little higher pitched than usual. You hope you sound offended.

_"Hmm?"_, he lifts his head to the right and makes eye contact again, raising an eyebrow at you.

"You literally have no idea what you just said, do you?"

He looks away, frowning and you can just see him trying to recall. After a few seconds, he looks back at you, "No".

You giggle at his honesty, "Where was your mind?"

He eyes you suspiciously and you realize immediately that he knows you're up to something, that you know exactly where his mind has been. A small smile appears on his face.

"You're nasty", he replies.

"You like nasty"

He chuckles and nods, eyes directed aimlessly below him.

"You like nasty so much that you want to rip me out of my clothes, right here, don't you?". All of the sudden, his eyes shoot up, towards you and he looks at you. There's no clear, visible emotion present, neither in his eyes nor in his body language. He just stares at you from the corners of his eyes. But you know this look well enough. You've gotten to know it very well over the past few months. It's the same look he gives you moments before crashing his lips passionately against yours. The same look he has on his face before he peels your clothes off of your body and makes love to you. It's not an emotion. It's an urge. It's hunger. It's a need, a basic, primal need that needs to be sated. _Now._

"What was that explosion?", you abruptly ask him and you can see it throws him off. He shifts in his seat, his expression changing.

"It's a blowout", he says after clearing his throat a couple of times.

You look at him smugly and he notices this right away. He knows you're enjoying the effect you have on him.

"Stop this"

"Why? I'm enjoying myself"

"I can see that. But if you really don't want me_ ''to rip you out of your clothes here''_, you need to stop."

"I don't think there's enough room in your car to be doing such an…. intense… activity", you deliberately look around you, laying emphasis on the backseat by staring at it longer than you should've. He looks as well.

_"I'll make sure there's room",_ his voice grows huskier and drops lower by the second. The velvetiness of that delicious, husk, deep, smooth voice makes your knees weak.

"That seems highly uncomfortable", you continue to tease him.

_"I. Don't. Fucking. Care."_, he says through gritted teeth.

You've sent him to the edge. You know there are very little boundaries stopping him now. There is hardly anyone on the road, as it's heavily pouring down from the sky. And even if there would be someone out there, they would have a hard time seeing the two of you. It's night, which makes it hard to see something with the naked eye.

"Do you have a spare tire?", you ask, hoping to chance the subject and the atmosphere, which has been heating up with sexual tension. You don't want another explosion in the car. Or maybe…. No. Someone could see you. Someone could pull over, hoping to assist someone else in need and find you two getting extremely comfortable on the backseat. It would be bad publicity.

He closes his eyes and sinks a little deeper into his seat. He inhales, taking in a sharp breath. He lets out a deep breath after a few seconds. He opens his eyes again and looks at you, smiling. You already noticed a couple weeks in your relationship that he has an impeccable self-control. And you envy him for it.

"I do", he replies calmly, as if nothing happened.

"Do you know how to change a flat tire?"

"Yes, I do"

Both of your eyebrows immediately shoot up. You're surprised. You can see him scratch his palate with his tongue, smirking wickedly, "But you don't expect me to change a flat tire in this weather, do you?"

"Oh, shut up.", you playfully poke him in his side, "I'll even assist you. I just want to go home".

"Do you know how to change a flat tire, love?"

You scoff, "Of course I know how to ch-"

"No, you don't. I've seen you try.", the smile on his face grows bigger, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, Mr. MacFarlane, you'll just have to tell me what to do. Something you have no problem doing anyways".

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that means"

"How about you explain it to me?", he says as he grabs you by the legs and pulls you to him, placing a knee on each side of his body. Before you can properly realize it or even stop him, you're already placed on his lap.

"How about you fix that goddamn tire?", you say, teasing him by brushing your lips lightly against his. You don't let them linger there too long. You draw back and quickly open the car door, sliding off of him to step outside into the cold, damp weather. You immediately squint your eyes a little, regretting your decision. You turn around to look at him and watch how he exits the car with the utmost ease and grace.

"We better hurry up. The weather's increasingly becoming worse", he warms you. You look up. The clouds are darkening, turning into different shades of dark blue. This doesn't look good. A storm's up ahead, for sure. He hastily makes his way towards the trunk, passes you by whilst doing so but makes sure to place a quick kiss on your cheek, "Please don't be mad at me"

"I can never be mad at you. At least, not for long", you say as you follow him to the trunk. He's already opened it and searches frantically through the crowded space, looking for his spare tire.

"Not with that firm ass of yours", you slap his tush with – in hindsight – a little too much force, because you slap him right against his car, making him hit his head against the metal. He looks up at you, rubbing his scalp, "Getting a little rough and antsy, are we?"

You wink at him and lean forward beside him, whispering near his ear, "You know, it's odd. I always find myself like this around you. I'm not sure what it is".

He smirks deviously, "You might've caught something".

"Yes, I think I have. MacFarlanitis, you know it?"

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard", he bursts out in a chuckle, chuckling light-heartedly.

"Well, excuse me, but I'm starting to become soaking wet here."

He grabs the spare tire after finally finding it and takes a few steps back. He directs himself at you and takes a few glances. You instantly notice the perverted, dirty smile on his face that starts to appear and grow bigger with each glance.

"Don't even start with that. Pull your mind out of the gutter. I'm starting to believe it's true that men think about sex every couple of seconds"

"That's not true. Every couple of seconds I spend thinking about how to unclasp that bra of yours. Its shackle is a complete mystery to me"

You cross your arms in front of your chest and watch how he passes you once more, squats down beside the car and places the jack near the flattened tire.

"You just want to piss me off, don't you?"

"Yes. I'm actually hoping for angry sex when we get back home", he says with a smirk while placing the jack underneath the frame of the car. He raises the jack, supporting the car with it. You roll your eyes at him. He grabs the wrench from the trunk and starts to loosen the nuts. Your resolve quickly fades away when you see your man working hard to get the tire fixed. It's taken quite a lot of force to break the lug nuts free. Your mind is distracted. His light blue button-up has been turned into a sticky, see-through shirt, sticking to his flesh. With him now using his full body weight and strength to loosen the nuts, you can see his taut muscles. You chew on your lip.

When he starts to pump the jack to lift the tire fully off of the ground, you nearly lose it. It's a continuous wave of tensing muscles and then relaxing them, and tense and relax, and tense and relax, and repeat. He removes the loosened nuts, giving him greasy fingers as a result. You've never seen him do something as manly as this. You can feel your mouth watering up. You might not even be able to control yourself after all.

He removes the blowout, rolling it out and sets it aside. You hand him the spare one and he places it on the hub, placing the lug nuts back on. He tightens them by hand until they're a bit snug and uses the wrench for one final time, tightening the nuts as much as possible. He then lowers the car, removing the jack.

"That should do it", he says after putting the old tire, wrench and jack in the trunk.

"Oh, definitely"

He frowns at you, cocking his head lightly. He's confused. Abruptly, you push him against the car with a hand on his chest, roaming and touching his skin through the wet fabric. The other hand pulls him closer, drawing him in for a passionate kiss and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist. Your tongue immediately demands entrance and he obliges. With both of your hands, you rip his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Tongues meet each other and start a fierce duel as you place a hand at the back of his skull, pulling him closer to you.

All of the sudden, an electrostatic discharge appears not too far away. You immediately let go of each other and look at the lightning breaking through the dark clouds andsee how it reaches the soil. The air rumbles as the sky turns pitch black. Another strike occurs, followed by the same rumble seconds after it.

"Shit", he groans under his breath and grabs you by the hand, guiding you towards the passenger's seat. He opens the door for you and you take a seat. He quickly makes his way to the drivers seat when another strike lightens up the sky. He glides in, puts on his seatbelt and turns the ignition on.

"Let's get the fuck out of here", he says as he speeds off towards the city up ahead.


End file.
